PLUG PLAY
Dorothy Freed
Please, Richard, tell me you’re not serious,” I say, when he shows me the plug he has in mind. “That thing is enormous. It’s not going to fit in my ass.”
“Really, Kira,” he asks, with that crooked grin of his, “that remains to be seen, doesn’t it? Kneel on the edge of the bed, facedown and ass up.”
Richard, an ass man from way back, has been training mine since I became his sex slave six months ago—moving gradually from the finger-sized plug he started with, to the big bruiser he’s selected for today. We both know I’m okay with it—we have safewords for serious objections and I’m not saying them. Richard, looking amused, arches his brow and waits for me to comply. I huff with indignation, but I do.
“That’s it. Higher even. Legs farther apart. Good girl,” he croons, stroking my asscheeks, spreading them wide, exposing me completely. I flush with embarrassment, imagining how I look with my face pressed into my pillow and my ass thrusting obscenely into the air.
My back arches. I shudder as Richard massages the nerve-rich flesh around my anus. Delight races through me as he teases my small puckered opening. I’ve been holding my breath and now release it, moaning, feeling my muscles relax as I do. Seizing his opportunity, Richard slides a well-lubed finger up my ass, while rubbing my swollen pussy lips with his other hand.
“You like this,” he comments, feigning surprise. “Your clit’s brick hard and you’re dripping wet.” He’s right; although no way will I admit it, I’m aglow from the inside out and hungry for more. I moan again as the finger withdraws and the tip of the plug seeks admittance.
“Open,” he orders when my muscles clench, involuntarily.
I take slow, deep breaths, willing myself to relax.
“Good girl,” he purrs, rubbing my engorged clit—and I open. The plug enters with a sharp burst of sensation and to my surprise slides in like a launched torpedo. I yelp as the widest part enters.
My sphincter clutches the plug, with its flat base jammed up against my expanded opening. It hurts at first but hurt soon turns to waves of pleasure. I’m panting now, cunt clenching, clit throbbing, ass contracting around the turgid rubber invader. I could come in few swipes of my engorged clit, but Richard grins and orders me to blow him.
I obey, unhinging my jaw, snake-like, to accommodate his girth. I lose myself in his pleasure, sucking and licking until he tells me to stop.
“Slip on that little black dress and the red boots I like—and nothing else,” he orders, stuffing his cock back in his pants. “We’re going out for a night on the town.”
“You’re not serious?” The idea turns me on, but I’m too embarrassed to admit it.
“Ready, Kira?” he inquires when I’m dressed.
“Yes, Richard,” I say, blushing. He rewards me with a kiss and throws a coat over my shoulders. We head out for cocktails. One of us is bottom heavy and takes slow, very careful steps.
Richard watches me ease myself onto the passenger seat where I list to one side and breathe deeply. He grins at me during the three-mile ride from our house, knowing that every bump and pothole in the road accentuates the throbbing in my ass.
The Harborview Bar is dimly lit and decorated in a seaside motif, with mermaids, fishnets, and anchors displayed on the walls. Richard leads me inside. We sit at a small table near the bar. I fidget and he grins again, enjoying my discomfort. The place is lively, with a mostly young, single clientele crowded around the bar, looking to hook up. A sprinkling of couples sit pressed close together.
I barely notice. My world is made up of Richard, me, and my electrified ass, clenching and contracting around that plug.
“What’ll you have tonight?” the perky waitress inquires. I’m hoping Richard will order for me because I’m not sure I can speak, but he turns to me and waits for me to respond. I shoot him an indignant look, which he ignores—and choke out a request for dry white wine. Richard doesn’t drink when he’s topping, and he orders iced tea.
Our order arrives. Richard’s feeling chatty, whispering in my ear, “Imagine, if that cute little waitress or maybe those super-straight office girls at the next table knew your secret. What if I told them that my girl has a big fat plug up her ass? Would they be shocked—or envious…?”
I smile, in spite of myself, at the thought of people around us knowing my predicament. Richard slips a possessive arm around me as we sip our drinks. As though we are alone, he gives each of my nipples a sharp pinch through the thin material of my dress, which sends a fresh rush of excitement coursing through me. I’m leaning forward in my chair, nipples puckering, clit tingling, ass throbbing. My breathing has quickened. I’m making little mewling sounds under my breath.
“Please Richard, may we go home?” I say urgently. He tilts my chin up with his hand and gazes into my eyes.
“Ready to go home and have me unplug you, Kira?” His grin is demonic.
“Yes, Richard,” I whisper, feeling my face flush at the image that presents.
He signals the waitress. She brings the check. Richard takes my hand. We walk slowly to the car.
Back home, I’m allowed to pee. Then we head for the bedroom where I undress and await instructions.
“You know the drill, baby. Kneel on the bed again, facedown, ass up.”
I obey. Electric sparks shoot through me as my nipples rub against the smoothness of the bedspread. The air in the room feels cool against my skin.
Richard strokes and pulls at my pussy lips; he sticks in one finger, then two. “You’re soaking wet,” he observes. “Too bad you don’t like this.”
I moan in response and hold my position as he massages my clit with fingers slick from my juices, while grasping the base of the plug with his other hand. “Okay, baby, relax your ass, and I’ll ease this sucker out, real slow.”
I writhe in delight when he begins to pull, but expelling the wide part makes me pant and moan. The sensation is so intense it’s like giving birth to something. I scream as Richard pulls it from me, and erupt into the longest, most powerful orgasm of my life.
Afterward, I lie panting on the bed, overcome with sensation and gratitude for my relationship with Richard, who always knows when and how far to push my limits—and how I’ll never go wrong by trusting my top.
“Forgive me for doubting you,” I say when I can speak again. “That enormous thing did fit in my ass.”
Richard grins and kisses me. “Speaking of fitting enormous things inside you, baby, get back on all fours again and stick your ass up high.” He rolls on a condom and lubes it up. “There’s an orgasm I’m about ready to have.”